


The Keep

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: WiP Big Bang Fills [4]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Nobility, Camp NaNoWriMo 2020, Castles, Crystals, Developing Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Emotional Abuse, Music, Mystery, WIP Big Bang 2020, implied/referenced psychological abuse, mazes, recluse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Jazz had always been curious about the castle on the outskirts of his hometown. He'd never been allowed in, though. Not until he takes his mentor's place as a private musician to the reclusive noblemech who lives there. Soon, he learns more than he could have ever imagined about the castle and the secret it holds.
Relationships: Jazz & Half-step (OC), Jazz & Prowl, past Prowl & Barricade
Series: WiP Big Bang Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863658
Comments: 24
Kudos: 52
Collections: WIP Big Bang 2020





	The Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Finished for WiPBigBang 2020.

The first time Jazz saw the castle, he was less than two cycles old, driving home from his sparking at one of the beta terminals of Vector Sigma in Praxus. Half-step, a musician, had petitioned for a newspark and been granted the energetic, curious one that would call himself Jazz as a protégé. Jazz would live with and learn from his mentor for the next deci-vorn, and the castle, seated on a sprawling estate, was on the outskirts of his hometown. The estate featured sprawling crystal gardens surrounding the tall castle, and the whole was surrounded by an ornate iron fence. The whole thing was overall beautiful and well-kept but somehow still forbidding, and it fascinated Jazz. Being even more naturally curious than newbuilds usually were, he peppered his mentor with questions about the place.

"Who lives there?" Jazz asked, his sensors trained on the estate as they drove by. It took over a breem to get past it; the property was huge.

"That's where Lord Prowl lives," Half-step told him. "Except for the castle servants, he lives there alone, has ever since his creator, the late unlamented Lord Barricade, was killed in a duel."

"Did you ever see either of them? D'you know what they're like? Or, were like, I guess," Jazz added, "for Lord Barricade. Why is he unlamented?"

"No one sees Lord Prowl," Half-step answered. "No one except his creator, when he was alive, and the servants, and they don't talk about what life's like there a whole lot. Never have."

"Why not?" Jazz wanted to know.

"Well, back when Lord Barricade was alive, it might've been because they were afraid. The old lord, he was a real slagger," there was genuine bitterness in Half-step's tone, and Jazz wondered about the history there. Something told him not to ask, though. "But these I'd say they keep quiet on a lot of it because they're loyal to Lord Prowl. The servants come into town on their days off to visit friends, shop, hang out. They seem happy enough, though. Big difference from how they were when Lord Barricade was in charge."

"Why? What did Lord Barricade do to them?"

"I think Lord Barricade was controlling at best and abusive at worst, and I don't see him being at his best for anyone, even his own creation," Half-step said honestly. "And I think if you keep a kid isolated from everyone else, they probably ain't gonna have the greatest idea of how to make friends."

"Wow, you don't hold back, do you, Mentor?"

"Some things you gotta talk about, Jazzie," Half-step told him, his tone serious though Jazz had been teasing. "They don't get better 'cause you ignore them, 'specially if they're things that don't leave physical marks. Sorry to lay that on you so early, but it's true. I mean, could be Lord Prowl's just not all that social by nature, although I've got my doubts that's _all_ it is. Just remember, not everyone's social and outgoing like I think you are, kiddo."

Half-step's prediction about Jazz being social and outgoing turned out to be true. The older musician had asked Vector Sigma for, among other criteria, a friendly and outgoing spark to mentor, and Jazz more than met those requirements. Jazz quickly became popular and well-liked and, as his skill as a musician matured over the stellar-cycles, in demand with Half-step to perform in their village and nearby towns as well. It wasn't fame, just being locally well-known, but even so, word of some kind reached Lord Prowl. One deca-cycle, when Half-step's deci-vorn of mentorship of Jazz was almost up, a request came from the estate for Half-step to become his Lordship's private musician. Half-step was no fool to turn _that_ down, and he had a newbuild to look after besides. The extra – and steady! – flow of cash would definitely help them both out. Half-step wanted Jazz to be able to go and get a formal education if he wanted one, something Half-step had never been able to do for himself. Jazz wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, but it wasn't like he was in any kind of a hurry. The universities weren't going anywhere, after all. The regular gig did mean that Half-step wasn't around as much anymore, but Jazz had his own friends to hang out with at that point. He wasn't exactly lonely, and 'Step still made plenty of time for him when he was home.

"What's his lordship like?" Jazz asked a deca-cycle or so after Half-step started working at the castle.

"Can't say too much, kiddo," Half-step said, kicking back on their starting-to-get-shabby couch. "His lordship's got rules about talking about stuff that happens in the castle, but I can tell you he's a whole lot better than his creator."

Jazz hadn't gotten any less curious in the stellar-cycles since he'd come online. If anything, it was the opposite. "You ever gonna tell me what happened between you and him?"

For a moment, Jazz thought he'd get an answer, but then Half-step sighed and shook his head.

"Nah. Nah, kiddo, it ain't even really my story to tell. 'sides, it's over and done with. Some things you just gotta let lie. Alright?"

Jazz, knowing when to stop, held up his hands. "Yup. Won't push."

Half-step relaxed. "Thanks, Jazz."

So, life went on with Half-step having regular work and Jazz getting more and more semi-regular gigs around town, and sometimes even out of town. Not anywhere big, but still. Jazz got that you had to put the work in first. Half-step had been doing that for ages, and it finally paid off: nearly a full stellar-cycle after Half-step began working at the estate, he got an offer to go on tour with an acting company. The offer was in conflict with his agreement with Lord Prowl, but Half-step, who loved travelling and performing, very much wanted to accept it.

"I can take over for you," Jazz offered as soon as his mentor told him about it. They were sitting on the terrace of the modest home they shared with a couple of fellow musicians, drinking high-grade and talking. "If his Lordship okays it."

"Thanks, kid," Half-step said, genuinely grateful. "I just hope he says, 'yes.' I really wanna go for it, you know?"

The next day, when he saw his employer, Half-step told Lord Prowl about the opportunity he'd had been presented with and about Jazz's offer to stand in for his mentor. Half-step couldn't tell if his Lordship were interested, or indifferent, or what while Half-step explained why he wanted to take a leave of absence from their agreement. Half-step thought there might have been a small shift of position when he mentioned his student, Jazz, by name, but he couldn't be sure.

"Send him to me tomorrow morning, at ten," Lord Prowl said, unemotional as ever when Half-step finished his explanation. "I wish to meet him first, and if I approve, then he may take your place while you are on tour."

"Thank you, m'lord," Half-step said, hoping he managed to hide his delight behind a professional façade. He just hoped Jazz and the quiet, reclusive mech who was now his employer would get along. Jazz was friendly to everyone, and so was Half-step, but Half-step had never quite been able to get a read on Prowl. The noblemech was either shy or stand-offish or maybe just not used to talking to people. But, if anyone could get along with even the prickliest of mecha, it was his Jazzie.

* * *

Jazz drove up to the estate on the day of the appointment, making sure he'd be early. He drove relatively sedately up to the main entrance, enjoying the smoothness of the driveway beneath him and admiring the castle. It was obviously ancient, but it was also well maintained. The building had a faint sheen to it, and Jazz had to curb the urge to go touch it and see what it was coated with. Not the best first impression to make at a job interview, poking the building for no apparent reason, and there was probably a servant watching for his arrival, so it wasn't like he could get away with it.

Later, though. Definitely later.

Jazz had guessed right about the servants watching; the massive doors swung open, and a smallish mech greeted him with a bow. The mech was dark blue with the black-and-white stripes of Lord Prowl's livery on his chest and around his upper arms, and Jazz couldn't figure their alt out. A monoformer, maybe?

"Jazz of Polyhex," the servant greeted him. "I am Atriensis, major-domo to Lord Prowl. Please follow me to His Lordship's study."

"Sure thing, mech," Jazz agreed readily and followed.

The castle interior was spacious, its decor antiquated but tasteful, and Jazz could easily imagine it all lit up and full of mecha, a party in full swing. Instead, it was quiet and empty, with only enough lights on for them to see their way with visual sensors. The air inside had that strange stillness that rarely used places had, even though Jazz knew the castle was occupied during the whole stellar-cycle. It was weird, and it was sad at the same time. Melancholy, his vocab datatrax supplied. Jazz hadn't yet had much cause to think of sad things in his young life, after all. Atriensis ushered Jazz through the central wing of the castle to a large room, slightly more modern than the rest of the place. A massive desk festooned with monitors and data-drives took up much of one wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the gardens took up another. Lord Prowl, painted in stark black-and-white with a few red and gold accents, sat behind it, work spread out before him.

"Lord Prowl, Jazz of Praxus," Atriensis announced and bowed. Jazz hastily copied him, though it was more of a bob because bowing to other mecha? Not really his style. But he needed to mind his manners so that Lord Prowl would okay Half-step taking off for a bit.

"Thank you, Atriensis," Lord Prowl said, and he had a calm voice that made Jazz's audials tingle nicely. "You may leave us now."

"My lord," Atriensis acknowledged and took a step back through the door. Jazz was alone with his Lordship and, for one of the very few times in his life, unsure of what he should do.

"You may approach and be seated," Jazz was informed. Jazz crossed the room, acutely aware of being watched, and sat down in front of his Lordship's desk. "Jazz. Did your mentor explain why I wanted to see you this morning?"

"Yes, my lord," Jazz said, politely as he knew how. "He said you wanted to meet with me before deciding whether or not you'd let me take his place while he's on the road."

"Yes, that's correct." From there, Prowl segued into a standard series of job interview questions, and Jazz gave his standard answers if maybe a bit more sedately than usual. Finally, Prowl seemed satisfied. "Very well, then, I accept you as your mentor's temporary replacement."

Jazz was surprised to get the okay so fast, but he remembered his manners. "Thank you, my lord."

"I normally require that my servants live here," Lord Prowl continued as if Jazz hadn't spoken. "Half-step was given an exception because he has care of you. Are you willing to reside here?"

"Well, yeah, sure," Jazz said. He hadn't thought much about it since like Prowl had said, Half-step didn't have to live at the castle, but it wasn't a problem. "I mean, we've got roommates, so it's not like the house'd be left empty or anything. So long's there's space for me and my instruments, I'm cool with it."

"The instruments you will use will be provided to you here and are the property of the estate. You will be required to follow the rules of my household," the noblemech said, again without acknowledging Jazz's reply. "They are as follows: remain in the servants' quarters and public areas unless Atriensis has been instructed to take you elsewhere; do not speak of anything you see here to the outside world; _never_ try to enter the crystal gardens behind the iron fence. Violation of any of these is grounds for immediate dismissal."

Yeah, that was what Half-step'd said the rules'd be. Jazz nodded. "Okay. Sounds easy enough."

"Curiosity had gotten the better of many a mech before you," Lord Prowl said wryly. "Disobedience is cause for immediate termination of employment no matter how useful I find you and how well you perform. Atriensis tells me that those servants willing to comply and live harmoniously find their lives here fulfilling."

"Won't mind if I ask around about that, I hope," Jazz said. If Lord Prowl wanted to be blunt, Jazz could do blunt. He hadn't been sparked with an excess of reverence for authority figures, and Half-step hadn't tried to instill one in him either.

"I expected that you would." This wasn't exactly an answer to Jazz's question, but his Lordship wasn't forbidding him either from the sound of it. "You may have until tomorrow to collect whatever belongings you wish to bring. Return here first thing in the morning. Atriensis will assign you quarters and provide you with further instructions. Have you any questions?"

Jazz knew from experience that 'first thing in the morning' was different for musicians than it was for non-musicians. "Yeah. What do you mean by 'first thing' 'cause I'm usually up late…"

Lord Prowl made a dismissive gesture. "Whatever is 'first thing' for you, then, provided you are available to me in the afternoon and evening." Jazz heard the door of the study hiss open. Must've been in response to an internal comm signal. "Atriensis will see you out."

Wow, abrupt, much? Jazz knew a dismissal when he heard it. Alright then.

"I'll meet with you again soon, my Lord," Jazz said politely, as he got up. "Good day."

Lord Prowl nodded. He didn't say anything as Jazz got up and left. Jazz couldn't see him and so couldn't tell if he were disinterested, rude, or maybe just not socially adept. Based on what Half-step had told him, he would guess the latter, by nature, upbringing, or both maybe.

"His Lordship is often abrupt," Atriensis said apologetically, as they retraced their steps through the castle. "But he is a good master. We have been quite contented since he assumed the title on Lord Barricade's death."

"I've heard a few things about Lord Barricade here and there," Jazz said casually, deliberately keeping his glyph tones neutral. Half-step had been a little more forthcoming in the time since he'd brought Jazz home, and Jazz had learned some things about the previous lord and the servants he did _not_ like. "Is Lord Prowl anything like him?"

Atriensis gave him a sideways glance. "Lord Prowl inspires loyalty in his servants."

Jazz picked up on the way Atriensis said Prowl's designation with respect and Barricade's with none. It was a minor thing, but Jazz was a musician and used to listening for sound, and he picked up the lack of a respectful glyph undertone where someone else might not. Well, Half-step had called Barricade a bastard, outright, on Jazz's second day online, so that wasn't a surprise. So Lord Prowl inspired loyalty, and Lord Barricade had (unsurprisingly from what 'Step had said) not, and Atriensis probably wasn't going to give anything else away. Jazz decided he was going to interpret that as 'no.' Yeah, Half-step probably would've said something if Prowl were as much of a bastard as his creator, but 'Step tended to want to protect Jazz. Jazz loved his mentor dearly, but sometimes the mech forgot Jazz had always been an adult and that he wasn't a newbuild anymore, either.

Half-step asked him later that night, "what did you think of Lord Prowl?"

Jazz had had plenty of time to think over his encounter with the noblemech. "Pretty terse. Gets right to the point. It seems like he's really lonely, though."

Half-step nodded and tossed Jazz, sprawled on the ground in their tiny garden, a smallish cube of high-grade. "Yup, that's what I thought, too."

Jazz sat up and opened his cube but didn't drink, spinning it almost idly in his hands. "Only met the one servant, but he seemed pretty loyal. Atriensis, his name was." Jazz glanced up at Half-step knowingly. "Got the impression you were pretty popular in the servant's quarters, too."

Half-step grinned. "You know me, Jazz."

Jazz snorted. "Yeah. Yeah, I do – and it's not like I didn't know what you were doing those nights you came home so late it was early. Just didn't know for sure _where_." He finally took a sip of his drink. "Damn, 'Step, the good stuff? I'd have gotten a respectable, steady gig earlier if I'd known what it'd get me."

"Just don't you go getting too respectable on me, kiddo."

"Who me?" Jazz spread his hands, one still holding the cube, and did his best to look innocent. "Perish the thought, 'Step! You taught me better than that."

"Thanks, kid." Half-step spent a nano-klik or two looking at Jazz fondly. "You got a good spark, Jazz. You'll do okay. And remember, I love ya, and whatever you need, I'll be here for you."

* * *

Jazz showed up at the castle the next day before noon, which he felt was pretty good since it was about the time he usually got up. Atriensis showed Jazz to one of the rear-facing terraces, where a keyboard was already set up and waiting for him.

"Please take a moment to check the condition of the instrument," the quiet servant said. "If there is anything you require, I'll have it brought to you."

"Sure thing, mech," Jazz agreed and did as he'd been told.

The instruments weren't his, and they were older than anything he'd played before, but they were in excellent shape and incredibly high quality. If Lord Prowl hadn't hired him, Jazz would have had to get a steady gig with a major band or symphony orchestra and work a century or so while living carefully to afford these.

"This is good, mech," Jazz said, impressed. "Really good. I mean, there is some major quality here."

"Lord Prowl makes sure everything, and everyone under his roof is well cared for and provided with the best quality," Atriensis told him. "You'll find him an excellent employer, I'm sure, provided you follow his rules. They are not difficult."

"Yeah, Half-step said as much about his Lordship." Jazz checked the connectors on the antique keyboard, making sure he was compatible, which he was. He plugged in, installed the drivers he needed, and let a diagnostic run in the background while he examine the instrument and chatted with Atriensis.

"If I may," the other mech began, "why did Half-step hand his contract over to you? I mean no offence, I just wonder why he chose not to return."

"Got the job of a lifetime, mech," Jazz answered, running his hands over the beautifully smooth, inlaid surface of the control board. "Went to chase the dream. We asked Lord Prowl if I could take over for him, and his Lordship okayed it."

"I see." Atriensis seemed to relax. "We had wondered if he'd been offended somehow or sent away for some reason. We hadn't realized he was sending the mech he mentored in his place, and he wouldn't have done that if there were a problem. Half-step spoke of you often."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Atriensis said and smiled faintly. "Half-step is very well-liked among the staff."

"Uh-huh. You mean he's been flirting away, right?" Jazz teased, knowing full well the answer was 'yes.'

"Ah –" Atriensis reset his vocalizer, though he was too professional for any hint of embarrassment to show around the edges of his optics. "Well, yes." He straightened up. "Do you require anything?"

"Nah, mech, I'm good." Jazz held back a smile, pretty sure that 'Step had been with Atriensis one of those nights he'd come home late, or not at all.

"Very well. Lord Prowl will be with you in two kilks." Atriensis gave Jazz a polite nod and departed.

With that, Jazz was alone on the terrace. That gave him a moment to indulge at least _some_ of his curiosity. Stretching out, he rubbed his fingertips over the building like he'd had the urge to the first time he'd driven up to it. The metal was smooth and slick, and he thought it was a crystal of some sort. Acid-resistant, maybe? It would explain why the castle was in such good condition despite the acid rains that occurred every spring. Half-step just made do with getting the polypropylene polymer coating their house replaced once it began to wear down, and it wasn't a hundred percent effective past a certain point. The house had taken some damage over the years, which Jazz helped fix when it happened.

"What are you doing?"

Jazz jumped and spun to face the owner of the quiet voice. _Of course_ he'd get caught poking at the house by his employer, who was one klik early.

"Oh, I was just wondering what the," he waved at the wall, "clear stuff covering the wall was." Great. Great Jazz. Very coherent. Way to make a good impression on your first day. "It's not like the plastic we use back home."

Lord Prowl approached him, moving so smoothly and quietly that it was evident where he got his designation from.

"It is crystal," Lord Prowl said as if he'd caught Jazz doing something perfectly normal. "Some variety of clear beryl, I believe. It was added when the most recent wing of the castle was built to protect it against the acid rain – I understand from the family histories it used to be much worse. This was before the polypropylene coatings modern homes have, I believe."

"Yeah, the poly's what we've got. It doesn't last as long, though. Not as pretty either," Jazz offered. They stood there looking at each other for a moment, then Jazz reset his vocalizer. "Um, I mean, what would you like me to play for you today, my lord?"

Lord Prowl swept his way over to the chair that had been set up for him. "Fretwork's Fifteenth, if you please."

Fretwork's stuff wasn't his usual style, but his mentor had given him some idea of what Lord Prowl was going to want, and so Jazz had brushed up on his classical music. "Yes, my lord."

There was energon on a small table next to Prowl's chair, but he didn't drink. He didn't move either, not that Jazz could tell. Jazz played through Fretwork's Fifteenth, and then Lord Prowl rose, thanked him, and requested that he play for him the next cycle at the same time. Jazz was to present himself at the main hall, and a servant would show him to the location Prowl had selected. Jazz was dismissed.

* * *

Jazz had been shown to his room earlier in the day. It was pretty decent, probably actually meant for two mecha but just set up for him right now. A couple of music stands – antiques like everything else here – had been placed on the side of the room he guessed would usually have been a roommate's. The room had been recently soundproofed so he wouldn't disturb any of his neighbours if he practiced up here. He'd been told he _did_ have access to the big, beautiful practice room in the east wing, but that Lord Prowl also lived in that wing and did not want to be disturbed after nightfall. The room was soundproofed, but the heavy implication was that Lord Prowl didn't want to hear people coming and going at whatever hours. But, he'd made sure Jazz could still practice whenever he wanted to, which showed him to be a considerate employer, like Half-step and the servants said he was. Weird and not exactly talkative but considerate. Jazz could probably have found a worse noble to work for.

Jazz had spent the rest of the day after he'd been dismissed by Lord Prowl exploring the parts of the castle he was allowed into and getting to know his fellow servants a bit. It wasn't easy since most of them were working, but he spent a while hanging out in the kitchen or wandering the parts of the garden and the castle he was allowed into. The whole place had the little-used air of the entrance hall, more so the closer he got to the places he wasn't supposed to go. Jazz didn't go in them, 'cause it would look bad on Half-step if his protégé couldn't follow instructions and because he needed the job, but no one had said he couldn't look from the places he was allowed into. Some of the areas were closed off by doors between the sections of the house, but some were just roped off, and it wasn't technically breaking the rules if he stood just behind the barrier. Not that he really wanted to go into the roped-off areas. They were almost all in the oldest section of the building, with the only exception the master suite in the east wing that Atriensis said had been Barricade's. Jazz liked looking at the older parts of the house – nothing to do with them being off-limits, honest! – but he had to admit that they were creepy. It wasn't just that they were unlit, and it wasn't like there were footprints in the dust because there wasn't any. The cleaning drones must be allowed in even if the servants weren't. The whole older section made him feel like he was on the edge of intruding somewhere he wasn't wanted. He couldn't quite pin down why. It wasn't because he wasn't supposed to be there, it was something else. Like – like being watched, even though there wasn't anyone there who could be watching him.

"Am I allowed to ask why we're not allowed in the places we're not allowed into?" he'd asked Atriensis during his orientation.

"Lord Barricade wouldn't permit anyone in those sections and never gave anyone a reason," Atriensis had explained, "and Lord Prowl has never lifted his creator's restrictions. It is the same with the gardens."

Okay, well, that wasn't much of an explanation, but it looked like it was the best Jazz was going to get. Maybe Atriensis didn't know why Lord Barricade had banned entry either. Jazz did notice the forbidden gardens were close to the forbidden wing, though and that just made him more curious. What was going on there that the whole thing was closed off? It was old, so maybe it wasn't structurally sound, but surely Lord Prowl had enough shanix to fix it or at least shore it up? But at the same time, it didn't look like it was falling apart, and it wasn't like gardens could have structural problems, right? (Jazz wasn't much of a garden mech. His backyard was entirely terrace, and he, Half-step, and their roommates mostly used it to drink and party.) He was sure there was a reason the garden was forbidden and maybe even a good one. He just wanted to know _why_. He probably wasn't going to get it from Atriensis though, so Jazz changed the subject. A little, anyway.

"Any of you ever get that weird feeling like you're being watched when you go near the forbidden sections?" Jazz asked Atriensis, who started to look really uncomfortable.

"We don't talk about that."

Okay, so that was mysterious and interesting. But Half-step had taught him not to push people's boundaries, and so Jazz backed off and didn't ask Atriensis any of the half-dozen or so questions that were building up in his mind. He looked up the history of the castle on the DataNet, but it didn't tell him much more than he already knew, except that the castle was so old there was no record of its founding. So that was kind of cool. There were some legends and stuff, but Jazz steered clear of those because he _was_ using his employer's DataNet access and so it was probably monitored. Poking around for too much history and stories and stuff that people weren't supposed to talk about likely wasn't a good idea.

Having gone as far as he was pretty sure he could go with his research, at least for now, Jazz put down the tablet he'd been using, stood up and stretched. He walked over to the window because even though he might be in the attic, pretty much, his window had a pretty decent view over the back of the house. It was midnight or just past, so he didn't expect to see anything except crystals looking pretty in the moonslight. He saw that alright, plus Lord Prowl, standing near the fence around the part of the garden that was off-limits to staff too.

He didn't mean to watch, he really didn't, but Jazz never could help being curious. Lord Prowl paced the length of the long ornamental gate leading into the closed-off garden for a couple of kliks, back and forth. Then he put his hands on the low decorative fence and stared into the garden for another klik before shaking his head and reluctantly pushing away. On impulse, Jazz killed the lights in his room and dimmed his visor down to almost nothing, definitely not something you'd see from as far away as Prowl was. But he didn't step back. Down on the grounds, Prowl did stop and look up at the house, but he didn't seem to see Jazz. Jazz couldn't see the expression on his face, either, but he stayed put because movement might still give him away. He couldn't say why he didn't want to be seen – no harm in a mech looking out their own window, right? – he just…didn't. He kind of got the impression Lord Prowl was doing something he wanted to be kept secret.

Lord Prowl started back into the house after a few nano-kliks, and Jazz finally let himself relax and step back from the window.

* * *

The scene on the terrace repeated, with a different location and choice of music, the next cycle, and the next.

"You know, my lord," Jazz said, as he finished playing in the fifth location around the castle in as many cycles, "if you tell me what you're looking for, maybe I can help?"

Prowl's steady gaze fixed on him appraisingly. "What makes you say that?"

Jazz shrugged, actually starting to feel a little uncomfortable since he couldn't read Prowl and tell if he was offended or not. "Well, we always set up in a different place, but it's always the oldest sections of the castle, the ones that've probably changed a lot over the vorn, and where the layout might not be so well documented anymore. You ask me to play different pieces each time, but always in the same key. You only ever ask me to play one piece – like, if that doesn't work, there's no point in playing another. You don't relax, so you're not listening to enjoy it. I dunno, just got the feeling like there's something you want to find, and the music's the key."

Prowl stared at him for a long klik more, still unreadable, then rose abruptly. "Come with me."

Jazz covered the harp he'd played today, quickly and carefully, making sure it was protected from the elements while not in use and hastened to follow Prowl. Jazz wasn't sure how rule-abiding Prowl was when it came to lord-peasant relations, so he only caught up enough to stay a few paces behind Prowl, not to walk next to him. Prowl did not speak as they walked, so Jazz had no idea where they were going.

Well, okay, he didn't know to which _specific_ room they were going, but he'd poked around the castle in his many off-hours, _maybe_ pushing the rules a bit, and they were headed to the original keep. It was the oldest part of the castle, hidden at the back but, if you looked carefully, clearly the point from which the building had expanded. It's exterior cladding, underneath the beryl sheeting, was a later addition to make it blend in better, but if you really looked, the structure of the building was just slightly different. Jazz thought there was probably an entire Age between the construction of the keep and the first expansion. He wasn't an expert, though. He was just going off pics he'd seen in history books. Music was Jazz's passion, but he'd read anything that came his way.

Prowl didn't say a word the whole way, his posture perfect, and his doors swept wide. Jazz wondered what Prowl was thinking about and if he'd shown Half-step whatever he was about to show Jazz. Given the rules of the household, it wasn't like 'Step could have told Jazz if he had.

Prowl led Jazz through a pair of large doors – the original front doors, Jazz realized, and their placement meant the castle had once faced ninety degrees from the current road – and into the keep. Inside it was cold and silent, feeling even less lived-in than the rest of the castle. Eerily so. Jazz didn't like it.

"We won't be here long," Prowl said, without turning around. His voice echoed in the empty building. "There's little left in the original keep, and what I wish to show you isn't far from here, in the keep's great hall."

Compared to the current castle's great hall, which Jazz had seen on his tour with Atriensis, this one wasn't very big. A medium hall, Jazz joked to himself. Prowl strode down the length of it and swept up the short flight of steps to the dais. He looked like he belonged there, and it was…well, to be honest, it was pretty hot, the way he looked all confident and lordly. The dais had been stripped of whatever furniture it had long ago, and Prowl was able to cross the space where the throne would have been, dead centre near the front, and head straight to the back wall. There was a pair of ornate columns there that probably once would have framed a tapestry or painting, and Prowl put his hand on a panel centred between them. Ancient machinery whirred to life, and the columns were pushed forward and then, the wall between them slid to one side, revealing a dark hallway.

Jazz was _thrilled_. Hidden passageways! Forbidden areas! Jazz _loved_ secrets! He just barely held it together enough to remember he probably shouldn't get close enough to Prowl to peek over his shoulder. Prowl started down the hallway, and Jazz eagerly followed him, the lights in the corridor coming on as they entered a section and shut off as they left.

"My creator told me about this not long after I was first created," Prowl said as they walked. "A hidden space below the old keep that was used long ago as a bunker for the ruling family in times of war or strife. Or during a rebellion. They hid other secret areas around the keep as well," Prowl continued. "Family secrets, art, shanix, other treasures. Weapons of great power, supposedly. My creator spent a lot of time looking for them, and he had me created to help him. It was – " Prowl stopped in a way Jazz didn't like, even if he wasn't sure why. "He found several of them, but never the largest, oldest one. It was too well hidden, and he – lacked the patience I believe it requires. I believe I've found the key to opening it, but the location is still eluding me." Prowl stopped in front of a section of the wall and opened another hidden door. "This is the place my creator felt held the map to the secret locations, but he could never decipher it. I was built to do so, but – I was a disappointment."

Prowl said that so matter-of-factly that Jazz just knew it was something he'd heard over and over again and until he really believed it. Jazz wanted to say…something, even if he didn't have any idea what he could have said. He had a mentor, not a creator, but he still couldn't picture Half-step _ever_ telling him something so cruel. Mentors and protégés weren't always close like him and Half-step. Mentor-protégé relations went the whole gamut from 'like family' to 'don't speak to me again after the deci-vorn's up and we're free of each other.' Jazz knew that. But, creators were meant to love their creations. Okay, sure, Jazz knew intellectually that abusive creators existed, but he didn't know what to say to someone who'd _had_ one.

And Half-step wasn't here to advise him. Jazz suddenly missed the older mech a whole lot.

"One of my ancestors was a musician, like you," Prowl said as if he hadn't just revealed what a slagger his creator had been. It worried Jazz that Prowl wasn't bothered. "He was also lord of the castle during a period of long and repeated sieges. He hid many things, including his work, down here, and there was something he was searching for as well. I believe my creator was correct, hence my reasons for hiring your mentor and now you, but as I am not a musician, perhaps I have missed something. I'd like you to look at what I believe to be the cypher key."

"You've never moved it from down here?" Jazz asked, not asking why it would be just Prowl missing something if Lord Barricade had been searching as well. "Wouldn't it be easier to study it back close to where you live?"

"Unfortunately, it would be rather difficult to move. You'll understand when you see it."

Prowl showed Jazz into a large room that Jazz guessed had been someone's practice space. The depth of the door jamb showed that the walls were really thick and covered in soundproofing. Someone hadn't wanted to be heard, which made sense if you were down here hiding. Probably not practicing would've been the smart thing to do, but Jazz got not wanting to go without your music. But once Jazz was inside the room, he forgot about the soundproofing.

"Yes," Prowl said, probably having accurately guessed what had caught Jazz's attention. "I have some – concerns about my ancestor's stability."

"Yeah," Jazz said, staring at the unusual musical notation painted all over the walls. "I think I can see why."

The mural, done in extreme, loving detail, except for a sketched-in lower left-hand corner, circled the entire room. It looked like a map of the castle grounds, at least as they had been, with musical notation drawn in on top of it. There was some talent behind it, Jazz could tell, but there was just so _much_ going on in it! Some of the notes were clearly and painstakingly drawn, and others looked like the artist had just barely been restraining themselves from scrawling them. It was beautiful, and it was creepy, and Jazz wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"I've analyzed it thoroughly," Prowl said. "I _should_ have been able to find the location or the key to the cipher, but it has so far eluded me, and I've been attempting to eliminate the most likely places one by one."

"Yeah, it's…" Jazz trailed off, took a step back, made a slight adjustment to his visual filters, and the answer just _popped_. "Lord Prowl. Were you reading this in two dimensions?"

"Yes." Prowl sounded curious. "Why?"

"'Cause it's holo-notation. I mean, it's holo-notation layered in two dimensions, but it's supposed to be read in three. I – Can I send you the directions for changing your optical filters?"

Prowl permitted Jazz's transmission, and Jazz saw the exact moment that he understood what Jazz meant.

"By Primus," Prowl said, staring. "I never – we never thought to try this. I think it may be the only filter we _didn't_ attempt. With this, I can decrypt the rest of the cypher within the joor. Just a joor," he murmured as if to himself.. "I will retire to my rooms to process it then summon you when I am ready to open the door." A thought obviously caught up to him. "If I had explained this to your mentor, could he have shown it to me as well?"

"Ah," Jazz hesitated, glancing at Prowl, then back at the wall, then shrugged. If the mech didn't want an answer, he shouldn't have asked the question. "Yeah, maybe. 'Step's pretty smart even if he pretends a party mech is pretty much all he is."

"I see," Prowl said thoughtfully, sounding less stiff than he had back on the terrace. "Then perhaps it would be wise of me to tell you the rest once I've completed decryption, and we are preparing for the next step."

"Okay." Even if Jazz didn't love learning secrets, it wasn't like he could refuse his employer, who was also his local lord. "Can we do that someplace else, though? No offence, mech, but this joint is creeping me _right_ out."

Prowl's icy façade cracked, and he smiled, hesitantly as if it were something he wasn't used to doing. "It is rather like something out of gothic horror, isn't it? Yes, we can return to a less oppressive area."

Jazz followed Prowl back out of the secret passage and the keep, not one bit sorry when the big doors closed behind them again.

"Never read any gothic horror," Jazz said because it wasn't a genre that really interested him. He did enjoy mysteries, though. "Think I've seen a couple movies, though."

"There are many selections in the library. I'll let Atriensis know you're permitted access," Prowl told him.

"Got any recommendations?" Jazz asked as they headed out. As cool as the coded mural on the wall had been, incredible as it was to get to travel a hidden passageway to a secret room, he wasn't sorry to be leaving the creepy ancient keep. He also wasn't sure why he'd asked for book recs except…Prowl didn't have to show him this. Prowl didn't have to explain a thing to him, and he sure didn't have to agree with him or smile when he did. There was a crack in Prowl's icy composure, and Jazz was curious to see if it would stay, maybe even if it could be widened.

"There are several I enjoy, but I don't know if you would like them."

The noblemech sounded a little hesitant, like he didn't know if he should be suggesting books to Jazz. Was Prowl hedging? Prowl didn't seem like the kind of mech who hedged, or got nervous, or was ever uncertain. Then again, Prowl _did_ seem like the kind of mech who didn't meet people often and wasn't good at it when he did. It was sort of like he didn't quite know how to interact with other people if they weren't servants – but he wasn't cruel about it. Just awkward. If Jazz'd known Prowl for the noblemech's whole life as a lot of the servants seemed to have, he'd probably have felt protective of the mech like they did. As it was, Jazz felt intrigued.

"Won't know unless I try," Jazz pointed out cheerfully. "C'mon. What's one of your favourites?"

"A lot of mecha will recommend _The Castle of Octanto_ ," Prowl said, almost shyly. "It's not deep reading, precisely. Though for true psychological horror, I would recommend _The Haunting of Hyperion House._ "

"Yeah?" Jazz genuinely was interested. It sounded like Prowl'd given him a combo of light reading and more in-depth stuff. "I'll take a look, m'lord, thanks."

Prowl was quiet for a few kliks, and then, abruptly, he said, "you don't need to read them. I don't expect to do anything more than what I hired you for."

"Ain't why I asked," Jazz said gently, not knowing exactly where Prowl was coming from but guessing it was somewhere that hurt. "Just curious about something I don't know much about."

"I see," Prowl said, looking away. "I apologize."

"What for?"

"Making an assumption about your intent."

"Hey, Lord Prowl," Jazz said, darting forward a step though still staying behind his Lordship. "You hired me to play music and help you find this thing, and I ain't expecting it to be anything else. I just like to know about mecha, and one of the best ways to do that is checking out what they're into and then maybe chat with them about it a little. You wanna do that, it's cool. You don't, it's still cool, I ain't gonna take it personally. 'Specially since you're m'lord and employer, and I know you want to keep some distance."

"Yes, distance is – necessary." Prowl said though Jazz swore it was a last-nano-klik word switch. "Thank you for understanding."

Yeah, Jazz was pretty sure he heard some undertones – not proper glyph-undertones but contextual meanings he didn't get yet – in that 'necessary.' Like Prowl didn't think it was necessary 'cause he was a noble and Jazz wasn't but for some other reason. Jazz wanted to know more, wanted to offer up a few recommendations of his own, but he knew this wasn't the time. Something – he didn't know what, but _something_ – had just happened that was a step for Prowl, and Jazz didn't want to push it. Jazz wasn't one to think that everyone who came across as unemotional or distant was that way because of some kind of trauma, but he had a feeling about Prowl. Maybe it was because of what he'd heard about Prowl's creator from Half-step and the impressions of Lord Barricade he'd gotten from the castle servants, maybe not. His creator had done a tap-dance on Prowl's psyche, and the lord hadn't recovered. So, Jazz wasn't going to blaze in with some notion of undoing Prowl's mental and emotional walls and bringing them down in a crash. What he was going to do was read those books and see if Prowl wanted someone to talk to about them. Distance or no distance, Jazz got the impression Prowl could use that. But Jazz wasn't going to expect anything more spectacular than a brief talk about them, a couple more recs at best. Prowl didn't seem like the chatty type, and people didn't always go for what they needed, even if they knew they needed it.

When they reached the keep, Prowl dismissed Jazz and said he would summon him when the decryption finished. Jazz agreed, and they went their separate ways: Jazz to the library and Prowl to wherever he went to decrypt things.

* * *

Jazz spent exactly one joor trying to read _The Castle of Octanto_ , and could not get into it. He finally shut it down and was starting in on _The Haunting of Hyperion House_ when he got Prowl's message.

 _Meet me in the centre of the eastern maze with a portable keyboard,_ it said. Prowl had helpfully included a map to that location. Jazz was slightly disappointed at not getting a chance to solve the maze – but it _did_ only show the way in, not out, and specifying 'eastern' implied there was another one. Jazz made one quick detour to grab a keyboard and fast-walked out to meet Prowl. Not only did it not to do keep his employer waiting, but he wanted to solve the mystery!

Prowl was standing patiently in the centre of the maze, next to a towering rose quartz crystal, his hands clasped behind his back. Jazz took a nano-klik to admire the mech's sheer _presence_ again then headed in. Prowl looked over when Jazz approached.

"Thank you for arriving promptly, Jazz," Prowl said. "Please, set up the keyboard and begin playing the piece from the mural when you're ready."

"Sure thing," Jazz agreed and began to set up his keyboard. He pulled up his memories of the mural, quickly converting them to something more easily readable and started to play. He was three stanzas in when a grinding sound was heard.

"Keep playing," Prowl said calmly, and Jazz did, even though he was horribly curious, until the grinding and the glowing both stopped. The song was over anyway. "Well. This was not among any of the outcomes my creator predicted."

"Yeah?" Curious, Jazz twisted around to look and saw that the statue had slid back, revealing a ramp leading down underground. Jazz grinned broadly, excited: _more_ secret passageways! "Cool!"

Prowl looked slightly amused; the mech seemed to be thawing. It was hard to resist the Jazz-meister's charms, after all.

"Yes, it is," Prowl agreed. "Shall we explore it? I may not need a musician again, but you did help discover it after all. You deserve to see the exploration through."

"Mech," Jazz said, already packing up the keyboard and forgetting for a moment the social divide between them, "you just try and keep me out of it!"

Prowl made a soft sound that might have been a caught-back laugh. "Follow me then."

Jazz and Prowl descended into the underground passageway. Jazz wasn't into architecture, but even he could tell that it was _old_ , maybe even older than the castle above it. Jazz didn't think it had been built by the mech who'd made the mural, but they must have used it and keyed the entrance to their song. He wondered how big the underground structures were: was it just this one passageway and whatever was at the end, or was there a whole complex down here? Were they the first mecha to be down here in millennia? (He could hear skittering in the distance that told him they definitely weren't the first living things down here and just hoped they didn't run into retro-rats. Jazz _hated_ retro-rats!)

"Did you have any idea this was down here?" Jazz asked, looking around. If his sense of direction was right, they were gradually looping back toward the castle, one of the older wings. He added belatedly, "my lord."

"I knew about the catacombs under part of the castle," Prowl replied. "I did not know they extended out under the grounds. I've spent quite a lot of time down in the catacombs, and I have never found anything that should have access to this section of them."

"Spent a lot of time down there with your creator?"

Prowl barely glanced back at him. "Because of him, yes."

Yeah, Jazz wasn't surprised to hear it phrased that way. He still shut up about it, knowing he wasn't in a position to discuss this with Prowl. He was still just an employee, not a friend, no matter how well they seemed to be getting along.

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Jazz asked.

"Unfortunately not. My creator had ideas, but I have a reason now to doubt the accuracy of his conclusions. I would not expect a symbol, or other obvious clues, however."

"Another musical key?" Jazz suggested.

"I don't know. But if there is one, I'm sure you can unlock it for me." Prowl slowed but didn't quite come to a stop. "You needn't walk behind me, Jazz. The corridor is wide enough."

That wasn't why Jazz had been hanging back, of course, and Prowl would know it, but he wasn't going to turn down the offer either. "Thanks, mech."

But once Jazz was standing next to him, it seemed like Prowl didn't know what to say. Jazz, on the other hand, was good at starting conversations.

"I started the books you recommended to me," Jazz offered.

"Both of them?"

"Yeah, just testing 'em out. Read more of the _Octanto_ one so far, though."

"I see." Prowl glanced over at him. "What did you think of it?"

"So far?" Jazz hoped he wasn't going to insult one of Prowl's favourites, but he'd been taught to be honest. "Well, it wasn't quite as strong on the horror, and I like the mystery better in this one – like mysteries anyway –"

"You didn't like it," Prowl observed.

Jazz hesitated, then shrugged one shoulder. "Not really? Sorry, mech."

"On the contrary, I'm relieved to learn I'm not the only one," Prowl told him. "As I said, many people will recommend that one but – I never cared for it even if it is meant to be a classic of the genre. I had thought…well. But I look forward to discussing _Hyperion House_ with you once you've finished it."

"Sure," Jazz agreed.

"Again, that isn't an order," Prowl said. "You don't have to."

"Yeah, I know I don't," Jazz said. Prowl sounded a lot younger and shyer right now than he had when they'd been working together earlier. Jazz wondered how old he actually was. Sure, he was an adult, but he'd referred to a creator, not a mentor, which implied that the mech had been brought online as a juvenile. Maybe he wasn’t as far past maturity as Jazz had thought.

Prowl seemed to fight with himself for a moment, then asked, "would you still offer this if I weren't your employer?"

"Yeah," Jazz said without hesitation because it was true. "Yeah, I would."

"Thank you," Prowl said softly, and fell silent again. This time, Jazz didn't try to start up a conversation again, but he did feel like they'd made some kind of progress.

As they explored in silence, their route brought them closer to the oldest sections of the castle. The patina of the walls was even starting to look older. When they finally came to a stop, outside a set of double doors with a darkened control panel, Jazz guessed they were underneath the original keep, further down than the hidden chamber Prowl had shown him the previous day.

"Did you decrypt anything on the mural about this?" Jazz asked.

Prowl shook his head. "No, and I admit I had followed my creator in believing _that_ lock was all that had to be decrypted. I have found references to other secrets, but he always dismissed them."

"Want me to try playing again?"

Prowl nodded and stepped back to let Jazz set up the keyboard again. Jazz tried the same piece he'd used before, then a few variations on the theme, and then Prowl requested he stopped.

"Yeah," Jazz agreed, "don't think it's gonna work this time either."

"No." Prowl considered the door for a moment more before he spoke again. "Before we make further attempts, I want to go back to the records to see if I can determine how to unlock this – and if I should. You can pack your keyboard away, and we'll return to the castle proper. If I’m right, there'll be a way into the catacombs somewhere around here. Certainly, entering these halls from my own to explore will be simpler than moving the fountain every time."

That was true, Jazz supposed, though he really didn’t mind playing for Prowl.

Which brought about another, less welcome, thought.

"Suppose I just fixed my way out of a job, didn't I?" he said wistfully. "'Step too."

Prowl paused, running a hand over a section of the wall that must have been where he calculated the entrance to the catacombs would be. "Not at all. I've enjoyed having live music, even if its use had been calculated. I think I'd like to keep up the tradition. And I-I enjoy your company."

Jazz smiled back. "I like hanging out with you too, m'lord."

Prowl ducked his chin a little shyly. "Prowl. Please, call me Prowl."

"Prowl," Jazz repeated, still smiling. "You got it."

They left, reluctantly, and headed back to the castle. Prowl found a section of the wall that he said abutted the castle catacombs underneath the kitchens and searched until he found a door. It did open, only to reveal that at some point, it had been panelled over from the other side. Prowl noted the location and sent instructions to Atriensis to have the castle's maintenance crew clear it, and they ended up leaving through the gardens anyway. Prowl brought Jazz back to his office, where he held the castle records going back to nearly the time it had been built. Jazz wasn't trained in research or anything, but he could follow instructions as well as anyone, and a lot of what he did was find stuff. Either he'd search through older drives for information and flag it for Prowl's attention, or he'd locate the drives themselves. There seemed like dozens, and more for the earliest years, when data compression and storage capacity had been smaller. Some of the drives were so old and so fragile Jazz was almost afraid to touch them.

He also made sure Prowl called for energon because otherwise, the noblemech would work himself into stasis through simple inattention. Prowl had energon brought for Jazz as well, and Jazz was surprised to note that the lord drank the same quality of fuel as his servants. Or, maybe, that was the servants drinking the same quality of fuel as their lord. Jazz wasn't sure. Okay, Jazz didn't have a whole lot of experience with noblemecha – Prowl was it – but he was pretty sure that was unusual. Based on what he'd heard about Lord Barricade from Half-step and what he'd figured out on his own from being around Prowl, maybe it was just that Barricade hadn't seen Prowl as much more than a servant himself.

It was past midnight, and Prowl was visibly flagging when Jazz decided enough was enough and got his attention.

"It's late," Jazz said. "Been a long day, and you need to get some 'charge, Prowl."

"I know, but I feel as though I'm close," Prowl said, reaching for another datapad.

Jazz intercepted it, tugging it just out of Prowl's reach. "Yeah, but you're also tired, and you might miss something."

Prowl sighed but relented. "You're right, of course. And I'm keeping you from your rest, too."

He shut down his terminal and stood up. "Will you breakfast with me tomorrow?"

Jazz usually got that invite for other reasons, but he was pretty sure Prowl just meant breakfast. Prowl seemed to realize that as well because he looked awkwardly away.

"Yeah, sure," Jazz said quickly. "Breakfast. What time?"

"Nine," Prowl said, obviously relieved, "in the copper dining room. Any of the servants can show you where if you're not familiar with it."

Jazz knew where it was because he'd explored as much of the place as he could on his own, so that wasn't a problem. "Nine, copper dining room. You got it, Prowl."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Jazz."

"'Night, Prowl."

* * *

The next morning, Jazz made sure some of the servants saw him well before he met Prowl. Didn't want any of them thinking he was fragging the boss, after all. He was getting kinda close to Prowl pretty quick as it was, even if it was just platonic, and Prowl didn't exactly seem like he was sure how to make friends. Maybe even how to have a friend.

Atriensis was in the dining room with Prowl when Jazz arrived, getting instructions.

"Please tell the servants they have the day off, and I wish them to spend it outside the castle if at all possible," Prowl was saying when Jazz walked in.

"Yes, my lord," Atriensis said. "But, if I may, why is the staff being sent away all at once? Staggering their days off would be much better, to ensure regular duties can still be carried out."

"The castle is in immaculate repair," Prowl said. "It will stand one day's lapse. This is for their safety."

Atriensis' frown deepened. "My lord, forgive me, but if it's too dangerous for the staff, then surely you should depart as well."

Prowl hesitated for a handful of nano-kliks before answering. "I'm going to attempt to activate one of the castle's ancient defences. I'm not sure how it will react, and I would like everyone at a safe distance if things go wrong. Don't worry about the breakfast dishes, either."

"Who will ensure your safety, my lord?" Atriensis asked, not looking like Prowl's explanation had made him feel better at all. "If these defences are as dangerous as you say…"

"They should recognize me as a member of the ruling family. I'll be safe, and I'll have Jazz with me if anything goes wrong."

Atriensis glanced over at Jazz. "Very good, my lord. I'll inform the staff. When will it be permissible for them to return?"

"Mid-afternoon at the earliest, thank you."

"My lord." Atriensis bowed and departed, acknowledging Jazz similarly on his way out.

Prowl took a seat at the table and gestured for Jazz to sit opposite him. The copper dining room, so named because its fittings and most of its fixtures were made of that metal, was a small one. It was probably meant for family meals. It didn't look like it had been used in a while. Fuel and additives were already set out at each place.

"Please, help yourself," Prowl said, stirring powdered corundum and silver into his fuel. Jazz chose some polymers for his mix; he wasn't fond of metals in the mornings, especially not (for him) early ones. "My apologies for making an assumption, Jazz. I told Atriensis you would be with me, but I neglected to ask you if you wanted to stay."

"No worries, mech," Jazz assured him, stirring his fuel thoroughly. Half-step liked to tease him about how he should just put it in a blender and save wear on his wrists. "I wanna see this through to the end."

"Thank you," Prowl said, adding a small scoop of whipped mercury to his energon.

"I don't want to leave you alone down there in case something goes wrong, either," Jazz said and took a sip of his energon. Same fuel as he'd have had at the servant's table, but the polymers were way higher quality. Guess Prowl indulged in some things after all.

"I appreciate that, Jazz." Prowl changed the topic. "I hope the polymers are to your liking. I took the liberty of asking Atriensis to provide something you would enjoy."

"Yeah, they're great," Jazz said, surprised and appreciative. Prowl might seem like he wasn't sure how to be friends with someone, but he was giving it a shot. "Thanks, Prowl, that was really thoughtful."

Prowl gave him a shy smile. The mech was definitely trying to figure out this 'friends' thing, and not doing half bad at it. "You're very welcome, Jazz."

When they were done breakfast, Jazz expected to go back to the drives, but Prowl led him to a different room.

"It occurred to me last night," Prowl explained, unlocking a door that slid open slowly as if it hadn't been used in a while, "that we might have more success searching through my creator's study. He was obsessed, even if he didn't know precisely what he was looking for, and hoarded nearly everything about the castle. Some of the records I would have expected to find last night weren't present, and they're probably in his study."

"Right." Jazz followed Prowl through the door. "You gonna be okay in here?"

"This was always the room that it was easiest to be near him in."

That wasn't really an answer, but Jazz didn't push. He followed Prowl in, looking around curiously. The air felt still, and while there was no dust, Jazz was sure no one had been in here in stellar-cycles.

"This was his private study," Prowl said, crossing the room to a set of shelves covered in, well, a whole bunch of stuff. Some of it even Jazz could see was junk; others looked like real antiques. There were also books, scribed by hand, and it was one of those that Prowl lifted carefully and set on the large desk. "I was rarely allowed to touch anything in here, unless instructed, of course."

Jazz wasn't sure what to say to that since Half-step hadn't been anything like strict. He'd just insisted Jazz be respectful of people and their property. Prowl didn't seem to be expecting a response, which was good. The noblemech just opened up the book and carefully paged through, looking for something. Jazz looked around while he did that, but didn't wander. Prowl'd kept a lot of stuff the way it had been when his creator had been alive, and Jazz was pretty sure the rules for the private study counted there. Good thing there was a lot to look at because it took Prowl nearly a groon to find what he was looking for. Jazz entertained himself by making up histories for some of the things in the room. He'd just pictured a silver chalice – beautiful but clearly cursed – killing its third owner when Prowl spoke up again.

"I believe I've found the reason. I remembered coming across it years ago. My creator dismissed it, but I believe he did so wrongly." Prowl beckoned Jazz to come and stand next to him while he read the entry. "'Great Maximus fought valiantly for his citizens in this last battle, yet his courage came at a price for he took a most grievous wound near unto his spark. Our chirurgeons have done all they can, but now the brave warrior must be placed into stasis to heal. For such a great spark, a great rest will be given. I hope only to see my dear friend again once more before I, too, pass on to the Well of All Sparks.'

"That was written by the third lord of the castle, during the Age of Wrath," Prowl finished. "I believe that the secret hidden below the castle is not a 'what' but a 'who.' I believe they are or were an operator of one of the castle's ancient defences."

So that was why he'd sent the servants away. Jazz nodded and asked curiously, "any idea who they might have been?"

Prowl shook his head. "No. But if I'm right, they've been in stasis for a very, very long time."

Jazz was fascinated. "Sleeping warrior, huh? Any idea who they might be?"

"No, and I’m also forced to wonder why they were never awakened." Prowl frowned down at the book. "My ancestor writes of Maximus as a friend, but he never woke him, doesn't seem to have left instructions for him to have been awoken. Was he dangerous after all? Was he simply forgotten? Or are we about to enter an elaborately locked tomb?"

"Guess there's only one way to find out." Jazz shrugged. "When d'you want to do it?"

Prowl hesitated for a moment, as if he were about to say something else, then carefully closed the book and put it back. "I suppose now is as good a time as any."

They headed down to the catacombs for the last time. Prowl took Jazz on a different route, one that went past the off-limits sections. The heavy sense of being watched was still there. It didn't bother Jazz as much now that he knew the reason for the feeling.

"I wanted to see it one last time," Prowl explained. "Before, if we're successful, things change."

"Have you gone in? Recently, I mean?"

Prowl shook his head. "Not since before my creator died."

Jazz wasn't sure how to read Prowl's expression. "Do you want to go in now? To say good-bye?"

Prowl thought for a moment, then answered, "no. No, it's enough to have seen it." Prowl turned away. "Let's go."

The castle's maintenance workers had done quick work, and Prowl and Jazz were able to get into the previously hidden passageways through the catacombs instead of using the garden. The halls looked and felt exactly the same way they had yesterday, with the double doors still sealed and their control panel still dark.

"So, what was the key to opening these?" Jazz asked as Prowl approached the doors. "I'm guessing that was in your research, too."

"Yes, it was. These should respond," Prowl laid a hand on the control pad as he spoke, "to me."

Prowl was right. The control pad powered up, very slowly, and the doors' servomotors whirred sluggishly to life. The doors opened, yellow light spilling into the corridor, but Prowl didn't enter.

"You okay, mech?" Jazz asked after they'd been standing there for nearly a klik. He tried again, a little more boldly when the other mech didn't answer. "Prowl?"

"I was created for this," Prowl said softly. "This moment, this discovery. I don't know if I'll know what to do with myself when it's done." Prowl paused, then spoke again before Jazz could say anything. "But at least," he continued, an edge in his voice, "I'll know I was the one who solved it, and not _him_."

Prowl walked through the doors, and Jazz followed. The room beyond looked like a control room, or maybe a monitoring station. The terminals were off, but a few ready lights glowed a steady green. It didn't look like something that should be the result of a lifetime's search, and Jazz wondered if Prowl felt disappointed, or angry, or what.

"This isn't it," Prowl said, walking over to the central terminal. "It's just an observation room. What I believe it was set up to observe is what we want."

"Yeah?" Jazz was intrigued and wouldn't have gone back if Prowl had ordered him to. "What's that?"

"If the conclusions I drew are correct…" Prowl put his hand to the security lock on the terminal, and it powered up, one of the ancient monitors flickering to life, showing a feed that showed just about the last thing that Jazz had expected.

"Is that…?"

"Yes," Prowl said, still looking at the screen. "It's a spark chamber."

Jazz stared up at the spark chamber, easily three times the size of his own, glowing dully but steadily as if in stasis.

"Prowl," he said, forgetting formality, "are we inside a _titan_?"

"What?" Prowl asked, understandably distracted, then recovered. "No, not a metrotitan. They can't be, the spark's not big enough, I don't think, and the old keep's not big enough. This - they must be a Colossus, a smaller fortress-style titan. My creator thought it was a weapon. I suppose he wasn't wrong."

Jazz edged a little closer to Prowl. "D'you think they know we're here?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Prowl said, equally quietly. "They've been down here for a very long time, and you saw that the monitoring stations have been offline. I don't know how much awareness they have in this state, or how long it might take to bring them out of stasis."

"They've got to have some kind of monitoring or something," Jazz said. "You know how you feel watched, standing outside the closed-off areas? That's gotta be them, right?" The older areas that Jazz thought now had to be part of the colossus, or at least connected to it somehow. It'd make that watched feeling make a whole lot more sense.

"Yes, perhaps," Prowl agreed. "But that could be passive scans, not true awareness. I don't know. I wasn't sure what we would find, but I certainly never expected to find _this_."

"Mech, I don't think anyone could have expected you to find this," Jazz said frankly. He paused, then asked, "so, what happens now? Do we wake them up? Would that be safe?"

"I don't know." Prowl finally looked over at Jazz. "There's very little information on Colossi. They were an attempt to replicate metrotitans on a smaller scale, but few of them were ever built, and they were soon replaced by the Guardian robots, who proved to be more stable. Although, if Colossi are similar enough to metrotitans, they may not have taken well to peace. You have heard the legend of Iaconus, the Mad War Titan?"

"Uh –I think I've seen a couple horror movies based on it." Jazz liked to read, and he liked to learn, but he wasn't so much into ancient history. "Iaconus couldn't handle not fighting like he'd done all his life, so he started lashing out, something like that? I mean, I'm not expecting it to be true to life, some of the movies get pretty out there." There had been a movie with a curse, and one with undead haunting the ancient, sleeping, titan, but Jazz was pretty sure those hadn't happened.

"Yes, I'm sure they took considerable historical liberties," Prowl remarked drily, "but the underlying story sounds roughly correct, from your description. Iaconus could no longer fulfil the purpose for which he'd been built and created a conflict here on Cybertron instead. His citizens had to fight him and force him into stasis – or destroy him, depending on the version of the story you hear. That is, if you believe Iaconus or any of the War Titans existed. Like the Colossi, they're largely regarded as myth or legend."

"Well," Jazz said frankly, "this is a hell of a legend we're looking at, then."

"Quite."

They fell silent for a few kliks, just looking. Jazz couldn't get over the size of the spark chamber in front of them and had to stop himself absently rubbing at his own chest.

"I look at this, what has to be the spark of Maximus," Prowl said. "And I can't help wondering if perhaps they were never woken because they were simply… forgotten. If they were left in stasis because they were no longer needed."

Or wanted, Jazz thought he heard at the end of that, even if Prowl hadn't actually said it.

"Hey, Prowl," Jazz said, reaching out instinctively to put a hand on Prowl's upper arm. "That's not going to happen to you, okay? I'm not gonna let it, and neither is Atriensis or anyone else who works for you."

Prowl looked at Jazz, then at the hand on his arm. Jazz was just about to pull away and apologize when Prowl smiled and put his hand on Jazz's. "Thank you."

"Any time," Jazz said sincerely. "Can't blame you for wondering, though. It's a long time to be forgotten, and I don't blame you for wondering if it's 'cause they turned dangerous."

"It's a possibility," Prowl said. "But I should also consider that the date of the entry was only a stellar-cycle before the lord's assassination. After Venator's death, control of these lands passed to a cadet branch of the family. While _someone_ clearly knew that there was something valuable or dangerous below the current castle, the existence of the Colossus itself was apparently forgotten. Perhaps it's just as simple as…time."

"Could be." Jazz looked from Prowl back up at the spark. "Only one way to find out, I guess. So, you want to wake this Maximus mech up?"

Prowl hesitated briefly. "I do wonder whether it might be kinder to leave them in stasis, never knowing their world is gone, but at the same time, if it were me, I would want to know."

"Yeah." Jazz was silent for a moment, thinking. "That bit you read did make it sound like they expected to be woken up, someday. I mean, if they come up sane enough to know what they want, we can always put them back into stasis if they ask. 'Course, if they aren't…"

"Yes, precisely." Prowl took a step forward and examined the console for a few kliks. "The controls are clearly marked, still, and should be fairly easy to use. I'll have to power on the system to be certain, but I believe I should be able to bring Maximus online at low power," Prowl said, "with their t-cog temporary disabled. Just in case. A panicking Colossus will do no one any favours."

Jazz pictured a mech the size of a Guardian robot on a rampage. "That's putting mildly."

Prowl looked back over his shoulder. "You don't need to…"

Jazz smiled. "Nah, maybe not, but I will."

Prowl smiled back. "Thank you."

The console's systems responded to Prowl's electromagnetic signature, just as the door lock had, and lights came on and equipment hummed to life under his touch. The great spark on the viewscreen, belonging to a Colossus who'd feel lost in time at best and crazed with battle rage at worst, didn't change, still glowing dully in stasis. Jazz really hoped they'd fall somewhere between the two extremes. Squarely in the middle would be really, really nice.

"Are you ready?" Prowl asked finally, turning to look at Jazz over his shoulder.

"I guess?" Jazz hazarded with a shrug. "Feel like it's more up to you, mech."

"I'm not sure I am," Prowl said frankly. "But I suppose now is as good a time as any. There's nothing to be gained by waiting."

There wasn't anything to be lost, either, Jazz thought but didn't say as Prowl brought up a screen marked 'stasis controls.' Prowl worked his way through the prompts and, finally, set his fingers on the sliders that would bring the mech back up to full operation and consciousness. He went slowly, and Jazz found his hands curling and uncurling into loose fists as the spark and the telltales on the consoles brightened. It took most of a joor for the Colossus to reach full operation, energon and power surging once again through the massive lines.

"Everything is set. Bringing Maximus back online," Prowl said quietly. He engaged the final sequence and stood back.

Jazz went forward and stood next to him again, and they watched the monitors, transfixed, not sure what they would experience once the giant awoke.

"What do we do if things go wrong?" Jazz asked, cause he sure didn't have any ideas.

"Run?" Prowl suggested, and Jazz couldn't tell if he were joking or not. It was Prowl, so probably not, but…

There was a soft rumble, cutting of Jazz's train of thought. Both waiting mecha froze. The noise got louder, and Jazz realized it was the sound of someone – a _big_ someone – groaning. He couldn't tell if they were angry or groggy or what, but without even thinking about it, he reached out and touched Prowl's hand. Prowl started a little, then looked over at him. Hesitantly, fingers curled around his. Jazz gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze back.

"…wwhhaat happened?"

The deep voice seemed to come from everywhere, from all around them, even though Jazz knew it was from the speakers in the room's ceiling.

"Maximus…" Prowl breathed, then stopped, seeming too stunned to continue.

"V-venator? My old friend? Is that you?"

Prowl exchanged looks with Jazz, then looked up at the speakers and addressed the Colossus. "No, I – Venator isn't here, Maximus. I'm his descendant. My designation is Prowl."

"Ah… I-I was wounded in battle. I remember that."

"Yes," Prowl said. "You were placed in extended stasis to recover. It's been – a very long time."

There was silence for almost a full klik. The Colossus – Maximus – was probably reviewing system logs or running diagnostics on his chronometer. Then the giant spoke again, and his voice was full of grief.

"It has been so long, so many vorn have passed. When you spoke of Venator, you said you were his descendant, not his creation. Does he live, or has he gone to the Well?"

"I'm sorry I don't have better news for you," Prowl said softly. "Yes, Venator passed on to the Well of All Sparks not long after you were put in stasis."

"Ah…Venator was-was a dear friend. I will miss him greatly. And the wars, the battles we fought together?"

"Passed into history and legend," Prowl told Maximus. "This is a time of peace."

Jazz fidgeted anxiously. This was it. This was where they'd find out if they had a smaller version of Iaconus on their hands or what. If they did, Jazz hoped it took a lot less time to shut a Colossus down than it had to wake one up.

"Peace," Maximus said thoughtfully. "Yes. We fought for peace. I wanted – Venator's last promise to me, before I was put in stasis to heal, was to create a land where I could live in peace. It is good to think that his dream was fulfilled. That is a worthy legacy."

"Colossus," Prowl began respectfully. "As you've seen, much time is passed. We are no longer certain of your name. Are you Maximus?"

"So Venator called me but my full designation in Fortress Maximus. I protect Praxus." There was a moment of hesitation, then Maximus asked, "are you my lord now, Prowl?"

"I am the lord of these lands, yes."

"Then, tell me, Lord Prowl, what use is there for me on Cybertron now? I was built to be a warrior, and I," Fortress Maximus's voice faltered, "I don't know what I will do, now that I have the peace of which Venator and I dreamed for so long."

"It – is hard, when what you were built for comes to an end," Prowl said, no doubt thinking of what he'd said and felt right before they'd opened the control room and woken Maximus. "But it is easier when you know you don't have to face it alone."

"…then, as my lord, will you help me face it?"

"I will," Prowl promised, and looked back at Jazz. "I think we both will." The question in his voice was faint, but there.

Jazz smiled at him and stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, we will."

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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